Unforgivable Sin

by Isabel Lucero

  “I’ll be okay. I’m sure I’ll just fall asleep, and then first thing in the morning, I’m outta here,” I say with a small smile.

  He gives me a lopsided smile in return. “I’ll be here as early as possible.”

  I give a small nod of my head and he leans in and pulls me into his strong arms. I inhale his masculine scent and enjoy the comfort he gives me. He kisses the top of my head before moving down to my lips. We kiss softly for a few seconds before he pulls away completely.

  “Go to sleep and dream of me,” he says with a grin.

  “Yes, sir,” I respond with a giggle.

  And then he’s gone. Adrienne left a little earlier and promised to be back in the morning as well.

  I snuggle under the covers, trying to get comfortable, and close my eyes and hope for sleep.

  Something, I’m not sure what, causes me to wake up. My eyes pop open, and I stare at the wall in front of me, waiting to see if I hear anything. Sometimes the nurses come in and check things, but I don’t hear anybody so I close my eyes and fall back asleep.

  What seems like only a few minutes later a noise startles me awake. I quickly roll over trying to search the dark room, but I don’t see anybody. Guess it could have been a noise in the hall.

  As I’m about to roll back over to my right side, a small movement catches my attention. Something in the corner of the room moved. I lean forward and squint my eyes, but can’t see anything anymore. I search the area next to me for the button that turns on the small light above my bed, but instead I hit the button that adjusts my bed.

  “Shit,” I murmur as I continue to look for the light button.

  Another noise.

  I snap my head up and this time Christine is standing right next to my bed. She has a devilish sneer on her face and she’s holding a syringe in her hand.

  “Still alive, but not for long,” she says.

  I go to scream, but she covers my mouth with one hand, shoving my head into the pillow and the needle sticks my neck.

  “He’s mine,” she growls with the look of pure, unadulterated hatred in her eyes.

  “Carla?” I try to say.

  She only responds with a wicked grin and then winks at me.

  In one last attempt, I open my mouth and scream as loud as possible. I feel her start to shake me, but I continue to scream.

  “Emilie. Emilie.”

  I open my eyes and see a nurse standing above me with a concerned look on her face.

  “It’s okay, dear. Just a nightmare.”

  My heart is racing a mile a minute and I grab onto the nurses hand.

  “Please don’t leave me alone. Please.”

  “Okay, okay,” she says, patting my hand. “I’m going to give you something to help you sleep, okay?”

  I nod. “Will you stay? Will someone please watch my door?”

  “Nobody’s getting to you, dear. Don’t worry. There’s a cop right outside, so don’t you worry.”

  She injects something into my IV and only moments later I’m drifting off.

  The next day when Adrienne and Troy show up to help free me from this terrible room, I tell them about my dream.

  Adrienne gasps when I’m done. “Christine is Carla? Could that be true?”

  “I didn’t think about it before. I always assumed they were friends, but in the dream I recognized Christine at my bedside and when she spoke, it was Carla. She said, he’s mine. It just makes sense now, though.”

  “What does this Christine look like?” Troy asks.

  “She’s in between mine and Adrienne’s height, maybe 5’5”, hazel eyes; she said she was half Puerto Rican and half black.”

  Troy’s body stiffens and it looks like he’s chewing on the inside of his lip. “That’s her.”

  “Are you sure?” Adrienne asks.

  “Yeah. I don’t have any pictures of her, but she didn’t lie about her nationality, Carla is Puerto Rican and black, and she probably is a bit taller than you Emilie, but not quite as tall as Adrienne. The only thing that’s different is her eye color. Carla has brown eyes.”

  “Contacts. She could have been wearing colored contacts,” I say.

  “I can’t believe we were friends with her!” Adrienne squeals. “That fucking bitch is out of her goddamn mind.”

  “I called the cops this morning and told them my theory,” I say.

  “So, she must have found out who you were, and then went to your job on purpose in the hopes of befriending you,” Adrienne says.

  “Yeah, seems like it.”

  “That’s crazy, because she seemed so nice and normal.”

  “Aren’t those the truly crazy ones, the ones that can fool everybody?” I say.

  “So she was there listening to us talk shit about Troy’s crazy ex and how fucked up she was and everything, and went along with it!” Adrienne screeches. “Not once did she ever let on that she was pissed when we were talking about her, or when you talked about Troy.”

  “I know. I’ve been trying to remember every conversation we ever had.” I look over at Troy. “I guess my talking about how you didn’t care about her anymore and didn’t want anything to do with her set her off.”

  “I’m sure my conversation with her the day before this all happened didn’t help,” he says seriously.

  “What did you say?” I ask.

  “Well, I basically told her that I was fine and had moved on from what she did, and that I forgave her. She seemed happy and then I realized she thought I meant I wanted to move on with her. I sat her down and began telling her how I wanted to move past that pain, but wanted to move on with you, how I much I cared about you. But like she did with you, she acted perfectly fine. She said she was happy for me.”

  “Wow,” Adrienne breathes out. “She is a piece of work.”

  “Did you really forgive her for what she did to you?” I ask.

  He shrugs. “I thought that if she had closure, she’d be okay with moving on. I guess I wanted to forgive her. Not for her, but for me.”

  He stops talking and stands right in front of me, placing his large hand on my cheek. I nestle into it and close my eyes briefly.

  “Look at me, Emilie,” he says gruffly. My eyes flutter open and I look into his deep, dark chocolate colored eyes. “What hurts you -hurts me, and I’ll never allow anybody to get away with causing you any harm. What she did to you? It’s unforgivable.”

  I wrap my arms around his waist and lay my head on his chest. I think I love this man.

  It’s been a week since Emilie’s been released from the hospital and she’s stayed with me the entire time. Carla is still out there somewhere¸ and she never responded to any of my calls. We figure maybe she realized I’d found out about what she did. Her phone has since been cut off, and there is no trace of her anywhere.

  Adrienne and Emilie mentioned a bookstore Christine said she worked at, but when searched, the block didn’t have a bookstore anywhere on it. There wasn’t even one kind of close by.

  Emilie is hoping that she up and left, afraid of getting caught, but I’m not so sure. When someone reaches that level of crazy, there’s no going back. The cops have stopped watching Emilie’s house, because nobody ever showed up, or was ever spotted on the street. They assume she left town as well, but say they’ll keep an eye on things, whatever that means.

  Despite the reason that Emilie’s been staying here, it’s been nice having her around. She’s been off of work, and we’ve been able to spend a lot of time together. She cooks every meal, and I clean up after her. While she’s a great cook, she’s not the tidiest person. It’s okay though, because we balance each other out. I hate cooking and need a clean house, while she hates cleaning, but loves cooking.

  “Hey, babe? Do you want to taste this?” Emilie asks from the kitchen.

  “Taste what?” I ask with a smirk as I raise an eyebrow.

  She puts her hand on her hip and pushes it out to the side. “You wanna play this game, Mr. Thompson?” she asks wic
kedly.

  “What game is that, Ms. Watson?” I ask as I saunter towards her.

  “The game you’re going to lose at,” she states as she turns back and stirs the sauce on the stove.

  “I never lose.”

  “There’s a first time for everything.”

  I walk up behind her and rub my hands over the curve of her hips and under her shirt. She begins to lean her head back on my shoulder, but stops.

  “Not gonna work,” she sings.

  I don’t respond with words. Instead I continue to move my fingers across her soft skin, inching down the waistband of her shorts. As soon as my fingers glide over her hooded clit, she turns the stove off and pushes the pan to another burner. When she turns around, my hand is pulled from her shorts, and hers move to touch my growing cock through my pants.

  She looks up at me like she’s just won. I only stare back down at her and let her rub me for just a few more moments. I lift her off of her feet and turn around and lay her on the island in the kitchen.

  “Hey,” she cries out.

  “Put your feet on the table with your legs spread,” I demand.

  She hesitates and I can tell she’s fighting between wanting to find out what I’m going to do, and not wanting to give in so easily.

  “Emilie,” I growl when she continues to lie there with her legs closed and dangling over the edge.

  She bites down on her lip, but doesn’t move.

  I wrap my hands around her ankles and place them on the table. Her shorts are loose, so I already have a slight view of her pussy.

  I move forward and slide the material of her shorts to the side, and get rewarded when I see her glistening for me already.

  “Looks like I’m winning,” I say. I hear her huff and then try to close her legs. “I don’t think so,” I growl as I push them apart again. “Are you trying to deny me?” I ask.

  She doesn’t say anything. So stubborn.

  “Emilie. Whose pussy is this, huh?” I ask as my finger slides over her clit before moving down, opening her up to me.

  She sucks in a breath and grabs on to the sides of the table, but still doesn’t respond to me. In a quick movement, I yank the shorts off her completely causing her to gasp.

  Leaning over her body as much as I can, I slide two fingers into her wet pussy and repeat the question. “Whose pussy is this, Emilie?”

  She groans in response and tries pushing her down onto my fingers, so I remove them and she cries out in frustration.

  “Don’t be so stubborn. Tell me what I want to hear.”

  She breathes out. “It’s yours, now please.”

  I smile at her. “It’s mine, so you shouldn’t deny me when I want it. You know you want to feel my fingers move inside you, you know you want my tongue to taste how wet you are, and you know you want to feel my dick deep inside of you.”

  “Troy, please,” she moans.

  “Please what?” I ask.

  She scoffs and looks up at the ceiling, but just a few moments later, she’s looking at me with a mischievous look in her eye. A couple seconds later, I know why. She slides her own hand slowly down over her stomach and then starts touching herself.

  My cock jumps at the image. She closes her eyes and begins moaning as her fingers slide through her own juices.

  “Emilie,” I say gruffly.

  She ignores me and starts rubbing circles on her clit. While I enjoy watching her play with herself, because it’s a hell of a turn on, there’s no way in hell I’m going to allow her to think she’s won this “game.”

  I take her hand and place it on her side. “Leave it there,” I growl.

  I pull her down to the edge of the table and start kissing her lower stomach and her thighs. My lips brush the lips of her pussy before tasting the skin of her inner thigh.

  “Troy,” she calls out. “Please.”

  “Please what, baby?”

  “I want you. Please. Please touch me.”

  A smile dances across my lips. “That’s what I wanted to hear. I love hearing you beg.”

  Placing my hands underneath her ass, I lift her bottom half up off the table and her feet rest on my shoulders. I bury my face in between her thighs, and stick my tongue into her wet opening.

  “Oh, God, yes!” she screams out.

  I know a lot of guys don’t like to eat pussy, but I fucking love it. Hearing a woman scream out because of what I’m doing with only my mouth is such a turn on. Feeling her clench around my tongue, and tasting how wet she becomes gets my dick hard, so I continue to eat her out until I feel like my tongue has gone numb.

  Pulling her down off the table, I stand her up and turn her around. She instantly bends over the counter, giving me perfect access.

  I push my shorts and underwear off, and then rub the head of my cock along her swollen lips. She groans in pleasure and pushes her ass back.

  “Please, Troy. I need to feel you.”

  I push the tip of my dick into her entrance before pulling back out and sliding it through her warm juices. She reaches around and tries to grab my cock and push it inside of her.

  I smack her hand away, and place them on the edge of the table. “Hold on, baby.”

  Grabbing my dick, I position it at her entrance, and then thrust deep inside.

  “Ahh! Shit!” she screams.

  Gripping her waist, I fuck her in long strokes, and watch my dick as it disappears into her hot pussy.

  “Yes, oh my God. Yes!” she yells.

  “You like that, baby?” I grunt as I bring my hand up and spank her.

  She cries out in pleasure again.

  “Yes! Do it again, please!”

  I growl before spanking her other ass cheek.

  “Oh God!”

  Reaching around, I rub her clit as I continue to delve deep into her tight pussy, and minutes later I feel her body tighten up.

  “Oh shit. Oh shit. I’m about to… come!” she screams huskily.

  I feel her wetness coat my dick and I pump into her hard and fast, loving the way her pussy feels when it contracts around my cock.

  A few minutes later my body tenses, and I know I’m about to come.

  “Ah fuck,” I growl as I stop moving.

  Emilie, knowing I’m about to come, turns around and drops to her knees in front of me. I stroke my cock as her mouth covers the tip.

  “Give it to me, baby,” she whispers huskily.

  After a few more strokes, I explode into her mouth. She takes over stroking my dick while sucking me into her mouth. I hear her swallow, and then her tongue lightly grazes over the slit in my head, and I shiver.

  “Fuck.”

  “Mmm,” she moans.

  She stands up on wobbly legs and I lift her into my arms and carry her to my room. We both end up falling asleep only minutes later.

  When I wake up, it’s seven-thirty and the room is completely dark. I lean over and turn on the small table lamp next to the bed. Emilie is lying next to me, her highlighted brown hair spread across the pillow, and her long lashes trembling in such a way that she’s probably dreaming.

  Her angelic face is flawless, her lips form the perfect pout, and the funny thing is that her beauty isn’t what calls to me. Her personality draws me in. It did from the very beginning.

  She’s feisty and knows what she wants. She doesn’t take any shit, and is quick to dish it out. She’s funny and doesn’t care what other people think about her. She’s loyal and honest, and really, what more could you want?

  My stomach growls and I remember that I interrupted her while she was making dinner. Well, since that’s effectively ruined, I climb out of bed and throw on some clothes. When I get to the living room, I order some pizza and then close all the blinds in the living room. After I clean up the kitchen, I walk back to the bedroom and wake Emilie up.

  “Wake up, sleepy head. I just ordered some food.”

  Her eyes flutter open and then close again. “Mmm. I don’t want to get up.”

  I
laugh. “Come on. You need to eat, and I ruined your food. I’m sorry.”

  She opens one eye and smirks at me. “I guess I forgive you.”

  “Good. Now come on. It should be here soon.”

  “So bossy.”

  “Yeah, yeah.”

  The doorbell rings. “I’ll get that and you better meet me out there soon.”

  “Okay,” she whines as she pushes the blanket off of herself.

  I jog down the hall and into the front room, and grab my wallet from the kitchen table. When I open the door, there’s a teenaged kid there holding the pizza carrier in one hand, and texting with the other.

  “Oh, hey,” he says, slipping the phone into his pocket. “I got a large meat lovers, and a large pepperoni, ham, and extra cheese. Is that right?”

  “Yeah, that’s it.”

  “Cool. That’ll be thirty-four fifty.”

  I pull out forty dollars as he pulls the pizza boxes from the carrier and hands them to me.

  “Alright, thanks,” I say, about to close the door.

  “Oh wait. I almost forgot,” he says, digging into his jacket pocket. He throws a folded up paper on top of the boxes I’m holding. “The wind blew this down your walkway. I guess it was on your door or something.”

  “Oh. Thanks.”

  “Sure thing. Have a good night.”

  I close the door and place the pizzas on the table in the kitchen just as Emilie walks out wearing one of my t-shirts.

  I can’t help the smile that crosses my face. “You’re so beautiful, you know that?”

  She blushes. “You may have said that before.”

  I lean in and kiss her lips and then turn to the pizza boxes. “Will you grab a couple plates?” I ask.

  “Yeah, don’t put any food on that counter until we clean it,” she says with a small laugh.

  I take the paper the pizza guy gave me and open it up, and my heart stops.

  “Troy. What’s wrong?”

  I don’t respond. I only continue to stare at the words on the paper.

  She’ll never be as good as me. You deserve better.

  “Let me see,” I say as I snatch the paper from his hands and read the words myself. “What the fuck?”